Pink Ribbons of Terror
by Chocobo Watcher
Summary: Poor Sephiroth just can't seem to escape the lurking evil! Un-canon, crack, one-shot XD.


Sephiroth stalked through the security entrance unimpeded. The security guard had learned long ago that trying to detain the general while in such moods could be dangerous. The silver-haired officer paused at the desk prior to the elevators. "How may I help you, General Sephi-". The fuming angel interrupted him mid sentence. "If anyone calls for me, I'm not here. That especially includes the cadets." "Yes Sir!" the guard replied. Despite his present desire to throttle someone or to stab something- **anything**, he managed to remember his manners. "Thank you, soldier." and then he was through security and moving towards the elevators which would bring him to his apartment.

Once inside, Sephiroth took a few moments to insure that all communication of any kind was impossible, and that the fort was secure. He was not in the mood for frivolity of any kind. Not even a surprise visit, which prompted him to investigate all the closets and confined spaces. His annoyance was increased by this, and resulted in his stripping off his clothes all the faster and letting them fall akimbo.

This strange throbbing tension felt in his temples was new, and it did not help the crawling, unpleasant skin sensations that had begun in the cafe. Sephiroth hurled himself into the shower cubicle and grabbed the soothing, jasmine scented gel he kept for just this sort of emergency. He shuddered as he tried to keep the memory of recent events at bay.

As he lathered his hair and scrubbed hard for the second time, Sephiroth cursed the president of Shinra, Rufus, and just about everyone who might hear about it. He didn't know who was behind this one. Genesis knew better. Cloud wouldn't because he didn't know, and Angeal would thwap Zack hard if he even tried a stunt like this. Odds are it was Hojo. The bastard would pay.

High Tea was an affair that the president of Shinra never missed, and he insisted on it daily, at three p.m. precisely. Most of the time he would conduct it in the V.I.P lounge of the Shinra building, or if the weather was nice, on one of the upper terraces. But every so often, (or more than once a month if the situation allowed) the president, surrounded by official guests, would attempt to be casual. In short, he partook of his mid-afternoon ritual in public.

Hojo had insisted that Sephiroth attend when informed of the invitation. "It'll be a new experience," he said " and you'll get to try some of the most luscious pastries in Midgar! Besides, we wouldn't want to hurt his feelings, now would we?". The angel was forced to admit to himself that such things came with responsibility.

As the military vehicles drew close to their destination, Sephiroth felt himself becoming uneasy. Something wasn't right about the situation. It wasn't until the guards had cleared the sidewalk of ordinary citizens so they could proceed down the Sector 2 city block and he caught sight of the place that it started. The front was an enormously long, white storefront trimmed with gingerbread and wooden curlicues.

The glass window front contained within sparkled in contrast to the dirty, mechanical presence of the street. An enticing, intoxicating scent of fruit, spices, and pastry lingered on the air. As soon as he caught scent of it the President moved all the faster, bouncing along like a happy schoolboy.

"Just wait until you try the strawberry pastries that they serve- heavenly!" The president sighed happily as he pushed the doors open and entered the establishment. The interior was all creme-white with soft pink accents. The tables were covered in white cloth, silver tableware, and rose colored linen napkins. At one end of the dining room, closer to the kitchens, two enormous copper and brass coffee stations twinkled brightly. They were flanked by enormous display cases filled with delectable looking pastries, cakes, cookies, pies. A second counter display proudly boasted candied confections.

The girls working in the shop were all innocently pretty. They wore starched white cotton pinafore style aprons with pink long-sleeved dresses and old fashioned boots. They were also, Sephiroth noticed, mind-numbingly cute and over enthusiastic. Like Zack in a dress at his worst, but without the allure. Hopefully the ones who served them wouldn't get too close- he could very well start to twitch.

The pastry did indeed look tempting. The intoxicating scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafted upwards. Despite his inward revulsion, Sephiroth felt his mouth water. What the **hell** ? How could this be possible? The plate containing it had a border of _ painted pink ribbons on it!_ He could never touch it now!

It was the same for the tea. Heavenly scented, set there in a dainty cup and saucer- festooned with pink painted ribbons and bouquets of flowers. And the vessel that contained more of the same- looked nothing more than a vast bloated bladder of ribbons that threatened to explode and cover him with a sea of pink strawberry flavored liquid at any time!

The general felt himself begin to do something he almost **never did, **and that was to sweat. Surely he could manage not having to partake of this grisly farce? He could slip away to the gentlemen's room on some pretext and then bribe his way out the back while the president made yet another one of his ridiculous speeches. Yes, that was an idea. Anything to escape actually having to consume what came out or off of those hideous pieces of porcelain...

" Try a bit of the pie, Sephiroth!, Hojo urged with a grin. "It's some of the best in the region!" Sephiroth felt the eyes of the entire table upon him as he resolutely reached for his fork. His arm seemed unwilling to move past the grasping stage and remained glued to the table. "Is something wrong?" one of the servers volunteered, moving towards the table.

"It's nothing, I'll be all right in a moment." "It's just a piece of pie. It can't hurt me," the general thought. I can manage this. If the evil pink think comes to life I can stab it over and over and over and over with my fork until it's dead...and..." "Well? Sephiroth? Hell-o-o-o-..." the president drawled, waiting impatiently. Snapped out of his fugue, his arm actually managed to function, cutting off a small piece of the pie and raising towards his lips.

Sephiroth closed his eyes and felt the morsel pass between his lips and onto his tongue.

It was, as it turned out, an exceptionally good banoran apple tart, but that's not how it seemed to him. Once in his mouth it expanded into a mouthful of harmful material that caused him to forget how to chew properly. He found himself gesticulating with alarm.

Hojo thumped him gently on the back. " Is it stuck? Have some tea," suggested somebody to the right "it'll help." Sephiroth frantically grasped the evil teacup, despite that his flesh had now gone from creeping to a good hard crawl. The moment he swallowed the strawberry flavored liquid he wished he hadn't. It burned all the way down, like acid.

And then it happened. His body could take no more, and he fainted! Sephiroth had been trying to stand up in order to get away, so as a result he pitched forward, face first. His face landed in the exact center of a tall white crème cake that happened to be the presidents particular favorite.

The worst part of all this, Sephiroth thought, was afterwards. Embarrassing the president by fainting was awful enough, but it word ever got out as to **why**... he tried not to think about it. But he would have to see to it that a new unwritten rule was added to the many others about the color pink. And ribbons would be banned one day, yes banned. He would see to it.


End file.
